Sometimes on the way to your dream,

you get lost and find a better one.

Friday, December 22, 2017

Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.


This month the words are supplied by Margaret Adamson and friend and can be found here.


This week's words are in fact two pictures and here they are included in my story:


Elfrida walked slowly across the untended field to face the small stone building. "This must be it," she said to herself. "It fits the description and it's in the right area."

"It's prettier than Aunt Nellie said, there weren't any flowers then and she did say it was a gloomy rainy day."
She sat on a large stone and thought about what Aunt Nellie had said. "We were gypsies back then and some of us had started to settle in small towns instead of travelling, we wanted our children to go to schools and have doctors available when we got sick. But Grampy Jack kept to the old ways. He camped in Samuel Wilson's field, but Sam had died and his son Peter didn't want gypsies camping there anymore. He wanted to sell the field, greedy for money he was. Grampy Jack refused to leave, he only wanted to be there a day or two anyway. But Peter got enraged and told Grampy if he wanted to be in the field then he could just stay there forever. Hit him and knocked him out and dragged him to the old stone hut and locked him in. It used to be a jail building until one was built closer to town, so there was no way Grampy Jack could get out. Anyway, Peter went to town and got drunk that day and forgot all about Grampy Jack. When the family got around to looking for him, it was too late, Grampy had died in there. Peter confessed to what he did and got sent to prison for a while."
"Why don't I remember any of that?" said Elfrida. "You were just a baby," said Aunt Nellie, "and it wasn't spoken of very much. Jack was the last of the travellers and the old ways got left behind after he died. Word has got around though, about a raven that lives in the trees around that field. Jack always did want to come back as a bird and some say the raven is him."
All of this whirled around in Elfrida's head as she gazed at Grampy Jack's last 'home'. "Are you really still here?" she asked. "Are you free to fly now?"
The cawing of a raven answered and Elfrida turned to see a large black raven standing beside the only flower in the whole field. A red poppy, her favourite flower.




29 comments:

  1. This is a lovely take on the photographs. Thank you so much.

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    1. Yes, this is such a meaningful story. Travelers had hard lives.

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    2. Elephant's Child; thank you, bits of sentences whirled around in my head for a while and finally gelled.

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    3. Susan Kane; I used to want to be a gypsy, but the old style gypsies with the decorated wagons and horses, back when I was about 7-10.

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    4. In Ireland, tourists can rent a gypsy caravan/horse pulled and join a group to travel a bit. Oh, I wanted to be in that group! Still sorta do, but only in my mind.

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  2. Fantastic, River....great...I love it.

    The pictures inspired you no end...and we, the readers, are the fortunate recipients. :)

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    1. Lee; thank you, I'm glad you liked it :)

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  3. Wow, you really tied two unrelated pictures into a neat story. Well done.

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    1. Arkansas Patti; thank you, it was quite easy once the idea began.

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  4. Hi River,

    Your imagination process based on those two challenging photos is extremely thoughtful.

    Thank you for this, River.

    Gary

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    1. klahanie; nice to see you around in the comments again Gary. Thank you :)

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  5. I have a special connection to Ireland and its history:

    “This is the place, #16,” Maura mumbled, consulting the tourist map. “Lots of history here.” She checked it off the map.

    She read further about Castle Rock City Jail, built in 1907. Misery wrapped in stone. Irish filled this place until they could be shipped off to Australia. Maura wandered off to #17, but was drawn back to Castle Rock City Jail.

    The stones seemed to cry out to her, to stay and listen.

    A gray mist turned her world to another time when men had filled that Castle Rock City Jail, waiting for their journey. Voices blended together, all joining together to say: Save us, keep us here. Their tears and desperation echoed around her, in the grayness.

    A crow called, cawing around her. Maura turned to see it pointing to a single red flower blooming in the field, surrounded by mist of yesterday. The crow flew away as grayness became sunlight once again. The field now turned fresh and green, filled with red flowers.

    A plaque stood, listing this field as #17: This field is believed to be where all the tears of the prisoners watered it. Distant voices can be heard in the wind, reminding all that their lives continued in a distant land. The red flowers have always grown here, since 1907.

    Maura checked #17 off. Her own tears watered the flowers as she wandered to #18.

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    1. Susan Kane; I know a little of Irish history, a very little from the TV mini-series Against the Wind. It begins in Ireland and is the story of Mary Mulvane on the convict ship and after she arrives in Australia.
      Your little story here is lovely, but sad too.

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  6. I really like how you interpreted the pictures River, very nice job my friend.

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    1. Jimmy; thank you, the pictures seemed an odd pairing at first, but it worked out well.

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    1. Margaret-whiteangel; Merry Christmas to you too :)

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  8. That's a great way to link those two pictures. I was feeling bad for Grampy Jack, but relieved that he's still around, if only in spirit. Of course I make a red poppy/ladybug connection with my personal experiences!

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    1. Val; I hadn't thought about the poppy/ladybug connection. I'm glad you liked the story.

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  9. Wow! You artfully chose such a great way to tell the story for these two pictures. You're quite gifted! Hugs...RO

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    1. RO; thank you, I really enjoy these small challenges.

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  10. Well Done.

    Merry Christmas Wishes.

    All the best Jan

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    1. Lowcarb team member; thank you. Merry Christmas to you and the team too.

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  11. Well done, River. You have the storyteller gene.

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    1. jenny_o; thank you. I sometimes wish it would expand to book-writing gene, but that's a lot of work and I'm lazy. Short stories will do me.

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  12. Replies
    1. messymimi; welcome to drifting. I'm glad you liked my story.

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